Jordan
I decline Astrid’s call for the fifth time, my thumb hovering over the screen before I let it drop onto my desk.
I can’t bring myself to speak to her. Not after what almost happened at her house. My phone beeps with another message from her, but I ignore it, clenching my jaw so tight.
If her friend hadn’t walked in when she did… God, what was I thinking? I scrub my hand over my face, trying to shake off the memory.
What if it had been Peter who walked in on us instead of her friend? The thought alone makes my stomach twist.
I can’t even begin to imagine what Peter would do if he found out how close I was to claiming his little girl, or that I already did –twice.
He would castrate me for touching his little girl, for making her c*m twice in one night and putting my hands on h
